The Journal of Curious Letters (The 13th Reality #1)(51)

After a quick breakfast of granola bars and apples, a unified hush settled on everyone as they helped Mothball pack up her things and stuff them into the backpack. The forest was mostly quiet, the occasional buzz of an insect or howl of an animal in the distance the only sounds.

Tick didn’t know if he’d ever felt butterflies so intense as he did at that moment, waiting to hop back on his Windbike and fly off to meet Annika the spy. From what he’d heard about Mistress Jane, he doubted she would be very merciful if they blew the mission and got captured. What if Sato was right? What if this was all a trap? What if something went wrong? Tick tried not to think about his fears, putting his trust in Mothball and Master George.

“Everyone, gather ’round,” Mothball said once she’d swung the backpack onto her shoulders. They moved together into a tight circle, intently awaiting instructions. “Just yonder there’s a small break in the trees. Once there, we’re going to fly up and over the roof of the forest to make it easy goin’. Just follow me, and we’ll make our way to the meetin’ point by the river. Once Annika comes with the Barrier Wand, we’ll scuttle away right quick and head back for the old battleground in the forest. Got it?”

“Yeah,” whispered Paul. “Sounds pretty easy to me.”

“What do we do if something goes wrong?” Sato asked, seeming to show a little more interest in the group. “What is—how do you say?—our Plan B?”

“Yeah, what if this Annika lady doesn’t get the Wand to us?” Paul asked.

Mothball paused. “Then we fly like the dickens back to the battleground to regroup.”

“Why do I not feel assured this has all been thought out?” Sofia asked.

“Annika’s been preppin’ for months for this, she ’as,” Mothball replied. “But if we don’t get the ruddy Wand, won’t matter much in the end. If we’re to have any ’ope of defeatin’ the Mistress, we need to trap her ’ere for a long time.”

“Then let’s do it,” Paul said, holding his hand out, palm to the ground.

Tick got the idea and did the same, putting his hand on top of Paul’s. Sofia followed suit, then Mothball. Everyone looked at Sato, whose face was hidden in the darkness. After a long pause, he finally gave in, placing his hand on top of the pile.

“Promise me,” he said looking around the circle. “Promise me you people won’t betray me.”

His words surprised Tick, and by the shocked silence from his friends, he figured they were just as taken back.

“Promise me!” Sato yelled.

“Just who do you think—” Sofia began.

“No,” Mothball said, cutting her off. “Sato ’ere had a bit of trouble in his past. Right deserving of his doubts, he is. Sato, I promise I won’t be the one doin’ any betraying. You can bet yer best buttons on that one.”

“Me, neither,” Paul quickly added. “Sato, we’re in this together, man.”

“Yeah,” Tick agreed. “We’re not going to betray you.”

“And you?” Sato said to Sofia.

“I think you need an attitude—”

“Sofia!” Tick snapped, surprising himself.

She paused for a long time. “All right, all right. Sato, I promise I won’t betray you, even though that sounds really lame. We’re all a team, here. Okay?” She said the last word sarcastically, as if to preserve her dignity. “Can we quit holding hands now?”

“On three,” Paul said, ignoring her. “On three, yell . . . Go Realitants.”

“Oh, come on,” Sofia complained.

“Just do it,” Paul replied. “Pump us up for some prime-time action and adventure. Ready?” He bobbed his hand up and down as he counted. “One . . . two . . . three . . . GO REALITANTS!” He threw everyone’s hands up in the air as he shouted the last part with enthusiasm.

Tick and Mothball half-heartedly said the words with him, but Sato and Sofia didn’t make a peep.

“Man, you guys are pathetic,” Paul muttered.

“Let’s just get on with it, Cheeseball,” Sofia said. “Let’s go get us a Barrier Wand.”

And with that, they got on their bikes and flew toward the tops of the trees.





Chapter


47










Annika’s Toss




The dark sky had the slightest hint of purple as the Realitants shot out of the forest and skimmed along the canopy of trees, following Mothball in the lead. Tick knew he should be terrified, but he already felt completely confident in the workings of the Windbikes; they seemed invincible and effortless. The dark and puffy roof of the forest below them looked like a churning sea of storm clouds, making him feel higher in the sky than a few hundred feet. It was a little awkward holding onto Sato at first, but he enjoyed the rush of speed and the whipping wind.

For the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to be Superman.

They traveled for a half hour before Mothball held up her hand to signal the others to slow down. The black purple of the sky had slowly brightened into a mixture of oranges and reds, streaks of fiery clouds scratched across it. Tick could see that the main forest ended a mile or so ahead, and almost swallowed his tongue when he saw what towered above the land beyond.

It was a massive fortress of stone and rock, still dark against the scant light of dawn. Dozens of towers and bridges dotted its skyline. It had to be the single largest structure Tick had ever seen—bigger by far than even the Seahawks’ football stadium. It appeared that not only had Mistress Jane discovered a land full of something like magic, she’d set herself up in a castle fit for a king from any fantasy book in the library. Tick was in awe and had the sudden urge to explore the place.

The three Windbikes hovered next to each other, everyone in stunned silence as they gawked at the castle of Mistress Jane.

“Calls it the Lemon Fortress, she does,” Mothball said. “Why that woman loves the color yellow so much is beyond me. Looney, she is.”

“Are we sure they can’t see us?” Paul asked.

“Not sure at’all. Come on, down we go. Got to be about our business.” She pushed on her handlebars and flew toward the edge of the forest, the other two Windbikes right behind her.

They passed over the green cliff of the tightly packed trees and descended toward the ground, where a lush lawn of grass and wildflowers was sliced by the sinewy curve of a huge, sparkling blue river that spilled out from underneath the castle before finally disappearing into the forest. Not a person was in sight, and in a matter of seconds, the group had settled on the ground next to the deep, slowly moving waters, close enough to the trees to smell bark and pine.

“Where is Annika?” Sofia asked, not bothering to hide the frustration in her voice.

“Be along directly, she will,” Mothball replied, but her face showed signs of worry as she stared at the Lemon Fortress with a creased brow.

From where they waited, they could see a cobblestone path running along the river and up to a large double-doored entrance of the castle, just a few hundred feet away. Next to it, the river seemed to magically appear from nowhere, bubbling up from under the cold blocks of the castle’s granite. At the moment, not a thing stirred anywhere except for the trickling river and the early-rising birds of the forest.

Tick was about to say something when Mothball shushed him, holding up a hand as she perked her ears, looking around for signs of mischief. At first, Tick couldn’t hear anything, but then the faintest sound of giggling and high-pitched chatter came from everywhere at once, bouncing along the lawn in front of them and from the trees behind them.

“What is that?” Paul whispered.

The creepy cacophony of hoots and howls and wicked laughter grew louder.

“That can’t be good,” Sofia muttered, her eyes wide in her frightened face. “Mothball, what’s going on?”

“Methinks we’ve been found out, I do,” she answered, standing to get a better look at the Lemon Fortress. “Sounds like the fangen to me, and they be comin’ fast. We may have to fight a bit after all. Don’t worry, the lugs are still blind and clumsy so all ya’ll need to do is move a lot and shoot ’em with these little gems.”

She pulled out several dark-green cylinders from a side pocket on her backpack and passed one to each of the kids. They were thin and several inches long, one end tapering to a point. Tick took his and examined the shiny surface, noticing a small button toward the thicker end.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“That there’s the Sound Slicer,” Mothball answered. “Point the narrowed bit at the beasties when they get close and push the button. Keep ’em off ya, it will.”

“What does it—” Sofia began.

Before she could finish her question, the sound of wood scraping against stone echoed through the air. Everyone turned in unison to see the wide double doors of the castle opening outward like the gaping jaws of a monster. The seam in the middle had barely grown a foot wide before a woman with long black hair shot out of it, dressed in a bright green dress, running with strained and frantic effort. In her right hand, she held a long golden rod.

The Barrier Wand.